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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30089754">intertwined, under a spell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kornevable/pseuds/kornevable'>kornevable</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Gang World, Introspection, M/M, POV Second Person, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:26:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30089754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kornevable/pseuds/kornevable</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“What's your reason to live today?” Ryouta asks you, smile too wide and too obviously bland that you can't even mock him for it.</p>
  <p>“Punch you in the face, for one,” you answer truthfully.</p>
</blockquote>Shougo feels inextricably drawn to Ryouta—clinging to a feeling that makes his head spin.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Haizaki Shougo/Kise Ryouta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>intertwined, under a spell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was originally written for the prompt "from the ashes" for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint">doublejoint</a>!</p>
<p>There is a mention of cigarettes without actual smoking and some swearing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He always tries to make you pick yourself up, even when you tell him to fuck off. He's acting like he's blessing the soil he's walking on when he's only a guy playing at saviors, who is in need of saving himself. Nobody in their right mind would survive in this ugly world without losing a bit of themselves on the way.</p>
<p>“What's your reason to live today?” he asks you, smile too wide and too obviously bland that you can't even mock him for it.</p>
<p>“Punch you in the face, for one,” you answer truthfully, narrowing your eyes at him as he takes your hands and guides you away from that shitty alley he found you in.</p>
<p>Ryouta holds your hands like they're made of glass and that you're going to break if he doesn't take care of them. The punch you promised will do wonders to show him you aren't weak, in the same fashion your words can have cutting edges just as sharp as that knife he likes to carry around.</p>
<p>Like the psychic he is, he gives a good squeeze to your right hand. “I'm holding onto you that tightly because I feel like you're going to slip away like sand and ash.”</p>
<p>“How the fuck can I slip away if you're cutting off the blood flow in my hand.”</p>
<p>He tips his head backward and laughs, his voice clear and loud and full of energy that for the few seconds it lasts you believe he's genuinely happy.</p><hr/>
<p>He knocks the cigarette right out of your mouth and it falls flat on the ground. You growl at him.</p>
<p>“You wanna lose teeth that badly or what?”</p>
<p>“You said you wanted to cut down your consumption, so I'm helping you,” he has the nerve to reply like he's announcing the weather. “You won't go far if you can't even follow your own word.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off, Ryouta.”</p>
<p>Ryouta pats you on the shoulder, his hand lingering longer than necessary, and your heart burns.</p><hr/>
<p>It becomes routine, to take a stroll in the streets of the brightly illuminated city at night, hiding within the shadows of the crowd, and to simply exist for a while. You never know what your night is made of, if you’ll even see tomorrow’s sun, so you walk, head held high and gaze examining the small indents in the city’s old walls or the faces of the worried people who are rushing past you.</p>
<p>You don’t look forward to your assignment of the night, but you don’t know how else to spend your time. It’s always a game of push and pull with you—getting away from something you wish you’ve never encountered, to in the end feel drawn back in because accomplishing a menial task, however unpleasant and disgusting, is marginally better than wandering like a ghost in the streets. You have no escape.</p>
<p>Ryouta is waiting for you, as usual. His wolfish smile makes you roll your eyes, but it only makes him smile wider.</p>
<p>“It will be fun, tonight,” he says.</p>
<p>“Don’t get in my way,” you grunt as he slips into your hands a pocket knife, unbidden.</p>
<p>“That’s my line. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Shougo-kun.”</p>
<p>You glance down at the knife he gave you. It doesn’t bear anything remotely captivating, plain in its silver color and practical design for multi-purposes, and yet you recognize it as the one you lost some time ago. You grit your teeth and shake your head.</p>
<p>“And you say I’m the thief, you bastard,” you mutter. “You’re doing whatever the fuck you want.”</p>
<p>Ryouta shrugs a bit too deliberately, forced in his casualness, but you don’t call him out on it.</p>
<p>On the side of the knife’s handle, there is a sun inelegantly engraved, like it was done with the world’s worst toothpick.</p><hr/>
<p>When you put your lips on his, high on adrenaline and hungry for more thrills, you think it’s stupid. It’s a physical act that either of you can get somewhere else, with someone else, but you always gravitate towards Ryouta, like he’s holding you hostage in his fucking space filled with nothing but empty reassurances and fake enthusiasm.</p>
<p>It gnaws at you. There is an incredible ache inside your chest when he clutches the back of your neck or bites your lips, making you chase after a feeling of depravity you didn’t even know you enjoyed. Chasing after something you believe you shouldn’t have. Ryouta is quiet only in these moments of absolute madness.</p>
<p>“You hate my guts,” you scoff one day, fingers holding his waist in a painful grip.</p>
<p>“I guess you do, too, if this is what hating someone looks like,” Ryouta answers, eyes blazing with a fire that’s burning hotter than rage.</p>
<p>You don’t understand. Ryouta’s countless smiles are indistinguishable sometimes, blending together to form a smile that’s neither smug, neither resigned, and falls in-between content and sincere—and you can’t bring yourself to face the meaning behind it, so you swallow these lips to absorb whatever energy you can suck to abate your thundering heart.</p><hr/>
<p>You press your arm against his and try to stay on your feet but your body sways. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and keeps you close to him. You can smell his disgusting cologne and hear his light voice dripping with so much sweetness you want to puke.</p>
<p>“What am I going to do with you?” he lowly chuckles, keeping you upright while he pushes your head in the crook of his neck.</p>
<p>“I'm not asking you to stay,” you say tightly. The pounding in your head isn't only the aftereffect of the fight you just won.</p>
<p>“I know. What's your reason to live today?”</p>
<p>You're searching deep in your repertoire of insults to answer his question, like usual, but maybe you lost more blood than you thought because your tongue can't work out the words you'd usually blurt out. Instead, a complete different sentence tumbles out.</p>
<p>“I don't fucking know. You, maybe.”</p>
<p>Ryouta's silent for a moment, probably stunned stupid. Then his body shakes with a quiet laughter, unable to stop himself as he presses his cheek against your head. You can hear the smile on his lips; not the fake and predictable one, but the one that tells stories about his joy and spreads light around him.</p>
<p>“There you go. Was it that hard to admit?”</p>
<p>“Shut up.”</p>
<p>It's not like saying these thoughts out loud was necessary anyway. Ryouta is still here, isn't he?</p>
<p>“I know you won't slip between my fingers when I hold your hand, now,” he says.</p>
<p>You lift your head just slightly to look at his face. He looks right back at you with those soft eyes that disappeared long ago.</p>
<p>“That was never my intention, dumbass,” you retort with a snort.</p>
<p>Ryouta only happily hums in response. No words needed, right?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! These two will never stop being difficult and stubborn. Kudos and comments appreciated &lt;3</p>
<p>/ <a href="https://twitter.com/kornetable">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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